


it starts with a look

by marin27



Series: Marin27's Starker Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Budding Love, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Celebrity Crush, Crush at First Sight, Flirting, Iron Man 2 Compliant, Love at First Sight, M/M, Peter falls in love when hes 7 he just doesnt realise it, Secret Crush, Sexual Tension, Starker Bingo 2019, Tony falls in love the moment he sees Peter but he's a cynic towards romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-07 18:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marin27/pseuds/marin27
Summary: Peter meets Tony Stark for the first time when he was seven. He didn't know he fell in love.Tony meets Peter for the second time when he recruits him for the 'Civil War'. He knows he's in deep shit.Starker Bingo 2019!For the prompt "Love At First Sight"On tumblr too!





	it starts with a look

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Starker Bingo 2019! For the prompt "Love At First Sight."
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s the first time Peter has ever gone to an expo. The little seven year old is ecstatic. Ben and May worked double shifts so they can afford the premium tickets Peter oh-so-wanted. The older couple relented easily because Peter is not the type to ask for what he wants. And Peter was jumping up and down, excited but timid, when he first asked if he could go. It was an easy choice for the couple to make. 

So, three months later, Peter found himself being jostled in crowds, bright smile under his big Iron Man toy helmet. He’s never felt so much energy in his tiny little body before. He felt like he was vibrating from head to toe, heart jumping out of his chest as he tries to squeeze between crowds just to get a short, but earth-shattering, glimpse.

Then, the reporters start yelling, cameras start flashing, and Peter’s toes curl up in his shoes. He pushes on people’s thighs, trying to signal to them to move as his small body is gets squished between grown men and women. Standing on the tips of his toes, he can feel Aunt May’s reassuring fingers press into his back, nudging him forward as the crowds begin to diverge.

Suddenly Peter feels his face heat up, and a wave of embarrassment and shyness washes over him. The thought of ‘Why would he notice _me?_ ’ echoing in his small head. He steps backward, back into May’s embrace as he starts to see—and hear—a presence incoming.

The people were yelling louder. It’s becoming too loud, Peter’s feels like his helmet is too tight, too hot and his heart pounds relentlessly within his head, the flashes seem glaring even through the dark lenses of his mask, the screams sound like they’re right in his ears and there’s too many people and suddenly May is pushing— _why is she pushing him?_ He’s shaking, eyes wide and panicking as he loses the feeling of May’s skirt under his fingertips and now he’s shaking—can’t breathe—can’t move—can’t hear—Peter is shaking—frozen—deaf, he can’t, _he can't_ —

Thick, strong, tender but grounding fingers rest on his tiny shoulder. They dig gently into his flesh, and Peter feels like he can hear again. Another camera flashes. 

“See ya, buddy,” _kind_ —that’s the first word that goes through Peter’s head when he hears his tone. _Lively_ —is the second when he sees the hand come from his shoulder to pet the top of his helmet. Another camera flashes.

Peter feels like he can breathe again.

He only has time to whirl around and see the back of the man’s head—brown hair in an effortless pompadour—before he gets swallowed up by crowds again. Peter didn’t get to see his face, but his presence—for a sweet, secure moment—brought the frazzled child back to earth.

The helmet feels like lighter, the yells seem far-away, and the spot where those fingers touched him leaves a burning wake, warming Peter to his core.

His bright smile is back on his face.

**

It’s similar the second time round; thick crowds, screaming people but Peter isn’t smiling. He looks at the stage and doesn’t feel adoration, just impatience and irritation bubbling up to the surface as a man in a grey suit and tie—who is _not_ Tony Stark—dances up on the stage.

Peter is pouting petulantly, despite May’s joking tone and Ben’s snide remarks about the man—which did help a little bit. The whole show of drones seemed too much like Iron Man suits, only with tiny heads that Peter found both weird and funny.

Only Iron Man can look cool.

When a grey and black suit starts to come up from the ground, Peter is confused. It’s exactly like Iron Man’s suit but with big guns and bigger machinery. Peter doesn’t want to betray his loyalty to Tony Stark and Iron Man, but the suit _does_ look a little cool.

All of a sudden, a loud zipping noise—like those fighter jets on the fourth of July—goes over the expo. And _bang!_

Iron Man lands right in the middle of the stage.

The crowd absolutely loses their minds.

Peter is screaming, hands in the air as he jumps to his feet. The red and gold armour glints beautifully under the stage lights, the sleek design making the entire fleet of drones look like plastic toys, the grey metal suit outdated. Peter notices it is not the glowing circle on his chest, but an upside down triangle. It suits him, Peter thinks.

He feels his heart pound at the sight of him, the same grounding and calming feeling washing over and Peter has another bright smile under the mask.

The crowd goes even wilder when Tony Stark stands next to the grey metal suit, hand waving to the crowds. He’s talking to the man in the fancy grey suit when all of a sudden, the man in the similar grey armour brandishes a machine gun.

Peter’s eyes go wide and he reaches for Ben. “Uncle Ben? What’s going on?”

He looks up at his worried face, and Peter has sinking feeling in his gut. Ben’s hand holds him back, May even huddling closer to Peter, “I don’t know, Pete.”

He looks over to his wife, who has an understanding look as well. “Pete, I think we have to go—”

She’s cut off by loud whirring and they all look to the stage. All the other drones have their guns out. Peter’s blood freezes. The first shots are fired and everything turns to chaos.

Deafening shots pierce the air, people’s cries of pain, screams of terror. Peter feels like crying.

Peter doesn’t feel calm anymore.

His tiny legs can’t catch up with Ben’s frantic running and sandwiched between thick throngs of crowds, Peter inevitably loses his grip on Ben.

Peter tries, he tries so hard to find him, he tries to scream for his name only for his throat to tighten. His heart is racing like a jack rabbit, fear in his bones as drones fly overhead, deafening rocket-like sounds. Peter sees flashes of red and gold armour, getting chased by the fleet of bigger robots and he feels a spark of hope. He knows Iron Man will save them.

The crowds around him thin out. Heavy, metallic footsteps shake the ground and Peter looks up.

Big and bulky, towering over Peter is a drone. It stares lifelessly at him and the child is overcome with the urge to hold this drone back. If maybe he can buy some time, then people won’t have to get hurt from this one drone.

Despite the fact he’s shaking and feels utterly terrified, a boost of courage shoots through his body when he thinks about how Iron Man would do this too.

He raises his hand, toy repulsor glowing bright, a sense of determination pulsating in his chest.

The drone takes out his gun, and Peter flinches but doesn’t move, doesn’t look away, brave gaze unwavering in the face of the robot.

He’s ready to face the drone on.

A loud clang sounds right beside him, ground shaking and suddenly—the drone blows up in a fiery blast spectacularly. Peter eyes go wide and he jumps back, seeing a pair of red metal legs in front on him. He looks up, meeting bright blue slits in a red metal mask.

And Peter’s breath is taken away.

His heart rate somehow getting faster at the sight of the Iron Man right in front him. He feels a burst of adoration, overflowing out of him in waves and Peter almost loses his balance.

_“Nice work, kid.”_

Peter watches with silent reverence as he flies off, leaving the child stumped but amazed. At that moment, Peter knows that he’ll never, ever forget what he felt when he first saw Iron Man.

And Peter Parker never does.

**

The date loaf is absolutely disgusting, but the tea is able to somehow help keep it down. Tony is grinning, charming and suave, words and lies flowing out of his mouth with ease as he tells the beautiful woman her nephew is a brilliant student who can excel at what he does if he’s trained under the right people.

Technically, Tony isn’t lying about that. The kid is bright, straight A student with outstanding commitment towards his other activities; robotics lab, decathlon team, band and even as the vigilante web-swinger. He has an excellent track record and for once in his life, Tony actually finds it impressive that this kid has never gotten into trouble in school despite his night hobby.

The only lie he’s telling is about the grant her nephew is _not_ actually a part of.

The front doorknob jiggles and it creaks open, another person walking into the house.

“Hey May.” Tony doesn’t turn around, but he does grin at May, who gives a shrug and greets Peter back.

“How was school today?”

“Okay. This crazy car parked outside.” The teen trails off, catching Tony on the couch. Tony smiles to himself and as if he didn’t know the younger man was there, he turns to him, immediately saying, “Oh, Mr. Parker.”

Tony stops right there, his mouth closing. If he thought his aunt is beautiful, then Peter is _stunning_. He’s like a reserved type of beauty, with his big brown eyes that stare at Tony, neatly gelled hair, porcelain smooth skin and thin pink lips. He feels as if the air is knocked out of his lungs.

Tony is… _enamored_.

And the warm, indescribable feeling only grows in his chest when Peter speaks, voice stuttering and charming. “Um.”

Tony only stares, keen on keeping his eyes glued to the person who has a sharp-jawline and an unbelievably gorgeous smile.

“What—What are you doing—Hey! I’m-I’m-I’m Peter.” Tony bites the inside of his mouth, grin widening. “Tony.”

“What’re you, what’re you, what’re you doing here?”

“It’s about time we met.” _And I’m glad we did_. “You’ve been getting my emails, right?”

Tony winks—with his bruised eye first which he realises is a dumb move when it sparks with pain—to convey the message. Peter furrows his brows but nods, “Yeah, yeah. Regarding the—”

“You didn’t tell me about the grant,” May says.

“The grant,” Peter says, still unsure.

“The September Foundation,” Tony clarifies. Peter gives off a breathy soft, “Right.” And Tony’s unhelpful brain immediately decides to remember that sound to replay it in his head at a later time to torture him.

“Yeah, remember when you applied? I approved!”

Peter stares.

“So now, we’re in business.” Tony’s eyes go wide, expecting Peter to play along. Peter only blinks, swallowing hard as his eyes go to May.

“You didn’t tell me anything, what’s up with that? You keeping secrets from me now?”

“Well, I just—I just know how much you love surprises, so I thought that I would let you know…” Peter trails off, not knowing how to continue his reasoning. Tony resists the urge to snort into his tea.

“Anyway, what did I apply for?”

“That what I’m here to hash out,” Tony’s words are quick, fast and to the point, as if none of this is an ruse, as if he’s practised his answers beforehand.

The soft, “Okay,” that spills from Peter’s lips makes Tony’s heart quicken. He’s unsure if it’s because he finds it endearing or whether he’s thinking about Peter being that quick to follow Tony’s lead, falling in line easily. “Hash it out, okay.”

Tony has to gain some control over his very distracted brain, and does the first thing he thinks of. “It’s so hard for me to believe that she’s someone’s aunt.”

He’s unable to look away from Peter even when he’s blatantly flirting with his aunt, a cheeky smile forming on his bruised face.

_Wow, flirting with the aunt of the person you’re trying not to lose your shit over. Good going, Tony._

Peter just squints at him, something flitting across his expression.

“Yeah, well, we come in all shapes and sizes, you know?”

Tony holds up the piece of date loaf, “This walnut date loaf is exceptional.” Tony is unable to swallow the two bites he took and moves them to the hollows of his cheeks.

“Let me just stop you right there.”

Tony looks over, “Yeah.”

“Is this grant got money involved? Or whatever?... No?” Tony smiles at his nervous gestures, hands going behind his back.

“Yeah, it’s pretty well funded.”

“Really? Wow.”

“Look who you’re talking to.”

He glances over to May. “Can I have five minutes with him?”

**

“As walnut date loaves go, that wasn’t bad,” Tony says after spitting the mouthful into Peter’s trashcan. He looks away from Peter after realising how prettier his eyes are up close.

“Whoa, what have we here? Retro tech, huh? Thrift store? Salvation army?”

“Uh, the garbage actually—”

“You’re a dumpster diver?” he stares at him, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, I was… anyway, look, um, I definitely did not apply for your grant.”

“Ah-ah! Me first.” Tony points a finger and takes out his phone.

“Quick question of the rhetorical variety.” He flips the screen, a blurry video of a red and blue figure whizzing by. Tony scrutinises Peter’s frozen face, “That’s you, right?”

“Uh, no—”

Tony’s lips twitch.

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, innocently. Tony only ignores him, watching the video on the holographic screen, “Yeah. Look at you go. Wow! Nice catch. Three thousand pounds, forty miles an hour.”

He puts down a phone, a tiny smirk playing at his lips, “That’s not easy. You got mad skills.”

Tony ignores Peter’s rambling, only humming and listening to his voice. He walks around the room, looking for crevices or empty spaces. He bites his lip, takes a broom and pushes up the hidden compartment overhead.

“What have we here?” Tony looks at Peter, who’s sheepish and staring down at the ground. Tony saunter over to Peter, eyes gazing into his as if trying to commit his face to memory.

“You’re the Spiderling, crime-fighting Spider. Spiderboy?”

“Spider-Man,” He mumbles. Tony snarks, “Not in that onesie you’re not.”

“It’s not a onesie,” Peter bites back, and Tony smirks even wider. He takes the suit and actually listens to Peter this time, “I don’t believe this. I was actually having a really good day today, Mr. Stark. Didn’t miss my train, this perfectly good DVD player just sitting there. Algebra test, nailed it.”

Tony settles down, watching him with rapt attention. But again, he’s unsure if he’s staring because he’s studying or admiring him.

“Who else knows? Anybody?”

“Nobody.” Peter is watching him, and Tony watches back. The kid’s been alone on this gig for months, and has no one to confide in. Not even a friend.

“Not even your unusually attractive aunt?” Peter’s brows furrow at this and Tony has the capacity to have a little shame over that.

“No. No, no. No! If she knew, she would freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out.” He trails off, and Tony is left wondering how alone does Peter feel. Tony takes a moment to stop looking at him, reaching for something.

“You know what I think is really cool? This webbing.” He throws the tiny jar at Peter, who catches it without a second glance. Tony takes that into account. “That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?”

“I did,” Peter says, throwing it back into his makeshift closet.

“Climbing walls? How’d you do that? Adhesive gloves?”

“A long story, I was—”

“Lordy, can you even see in these?” Tony exclaims, Peter’s goggles over his eyes. “I’m blind!” he jokes, feigning an old man’s voice.

“Yes! Yes, I can. I can see in these. It’s just that when whatever happened, happened… it’s like my senses were dialed to eleven. There’s way too much input, so they just kinda help me focus.”

Tony looks up at him, eyes going down his body. Peter is a good person, much better than Tony is. It’s clear something big happened recently, something that kick started this whole vigilante persona he built for himself. Tony can tell in the way he hold himself when talking about Spider-Man. Slouched over and dark eyes, words heavy as he tells Tony why he does all of this. Explains why he doesn’t want to use his powers for anything else other than to help people.

He tells Peter about Germany, but he resists. It only lasts for a few moments however, and the moment it appears that Tony is about tell Aunt May that they are leaving the country, Peter can only do the one thing he has to do.

The web doesn’t feel gooey like Tony thinks it would, but the way he’s trapped on to the doorknob does give him a glimpse of a filthy thought he will have to evaluate later on.

“Get me out of this.” Peter scours the room for the solvent for dissolving the web and leans into Tony’s space, opening the bottle. Tony can feel the warmth radiating from Peter. He can see the flecks of darker brown within his irises. It’s suddenly warm in the cramped room.

He can see his eyes better, umber brown and sparkling with youth. The soft curve of his cupids bow and the way worried lines form between his brows.

“Hey,” Tony mumbles, voice low. Peter pours a few drops onto the web and hums a soft ‘Yeah.’ He looks back up, only for him to freeze when he realises the way Tony towers over him, eyes searching. Both take in a sharp inhale of breath, hearts pounding in sync, loud and proud. A calmness settles over Peter, the ghost of a memory from years ago at that Stark Expo plaguing the forefront of his head; the way his heart raced, how his body seem to calm down at the sight of Iron Man right in front of him.

A swooping feeling in his tummy makes Peter blush, and he tries his best not to look away from Tony’s intense gaze. He breathes softly, a tinge of longing in his sigh, a sound that makes goosebumps erupt over Tony’s skin. The billionaire blinks, his eyes going lower until they stare intently at Peter’s pink lips.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Tony is shaken out of his reverie and he straightens up, eyes losing its haze. “Just get me out of this and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Peter holds the bottle tightly in his hand, and Tony realises Peter didn’t pour enough for the web to dissolve. Tony has a strong feeling Peter doesn’t want to get rid of web yet, the thing that’s holding Tony in place.

Peter doesn’t reply to his comment, only leaning in until their breaths mingled. If Tony wasn’t already distracted, he’d be thinking of how much this kid has guts to pull something like this. Peter clenches his jaw and he looks to the floor, uncertainty in his posture. “Tell me no and I’ll back off.”

Tony doesn’t do anything but stare at him.

When a few moments pass with no response, Peter looks back up at Tony. At the small, reserved smirk on the genius’ face, Peter licks his lips, drawing Tony’s gaze towards it.

That was the last straw for Tony, because something was clawing out of him, something heady with need and want and urgency and a compulsion to have this bright teenager all to himself.

He can’t help it.

Which is why Tony closes the space between them as fast as he can possibly can, lips crashing against Peter’s. The kiss is hard, lips taking the blunt force of his sudden movement, but Peter easily adapts and his free hand reaches up to cup Tony’s jaw in his hand. It’s messy, inexperienced, needy and everything that Peter and Tony have ever wanted ever since they met eyes in the living room.

Their chemistry is electric, raw passion pulling at their seams, making them lose a small bit of their self-control the longer they kiss. Tony’s hand is locked on Peter’s defined hip, thumb digging into the very thick muscle there; each touch nearly bringing Peter down to his knees. Tony pulls him closer and twists him into his embrace until Peter’s trapped between Tony and his bedroom door, hand still webbed.

Peter claws for the grey blazer, hands sliding under and fingers coiling into his grey t-shirt. His hands go lax and gentle when he hears a quiet pained grunt when he pressed into Tony’s probably cracked ribs.

Tony is the one who pulls away, but both of them are clearly still in need of the other. Peter dropped the solvent on the floor, uncaring. They stare at each other, Tony looking down at the shorter teenager with dark eyes. And for a moment, Tony wishes all his responsibilities were gone just so he can spend a minute longer with the brilliant teenager.

Peter grins, lips pink and pupils blown, a beautiful show of what Tony can do to Peter with just a simple kiss. Peter coughs, and mutters, “Thought you wanted out of the web?”

“I don’t mind staying in this for a moment longer.”

Tony and Peter don’t waste a single second of their ‘five minutes’ that May gave Tony. Neither do they waste the ten minutes of ‘superhero briefing’ in Peter’s Hotel room in Germany.

Peter Parker never really did forget how Iron Man made him feel.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I wasn't too sure on how to expand their canon storyline so I just gave a lot of insight into their inner thoughts.
> 
> ❤️  
> Say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/noncommited-writer)!


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